


Gold Medal Rule

by emilyenrose



Series: hatesex 'verse [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Hatesex, M/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-21
Updated: 2010-05-21
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:36:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emilyenrose/pseuds/emilyenrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DUBCON WARNING. On the night of his victory, Evan takes advantage of a tradition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gold Medal Rule

**Author's Note:**

> Original prompt: _In which when you win the gold medal you get whomever you want as your prize. (All the skaters know about it, but it's a big secret from the media, obviously.) And Evan wants Johnny, to shut him up for all the snide remarks. Spanking, begging, and bondage highly encouraged._

Johnny throws himself down on his bed and pretends the world has gone away.

This works for all of two minutes, and then he gets up and makes the bed, and makes Tanith's bed, and kicks the wall twice, and gets out the vacuum cleaner. When Tanith comes in he's making stripes in the carpet. Tanith says, "Um, Johnny?" gently, and then, "Okay, at least let me get to my bed," much less gently.

Johnny switches the vacuum cleaner off and looks at her. He can't even work up a good glare. Tanith doesn't have the good grace to hide her pitying look, but she opens her arms and Johnny sighs and goes for the hug. He's man enough to admit that he really needs a hug right now.

"So, about tonight..." says Tanith after a moment.

"What about it?" says Johnny. "Lysacek's getting laid. I'm getting..." _drunk_ , he wants to finish, but he doesn't actually want to, it just seems like an appropriate thing to do after you've been fucking underscored at the fucking Olympics for the best fucking skate of your life.

And right now Evan Lysacek is probably carefully considering who he wants for his prize. It's an unspoken thing, the gold medal rule. Well, it has to be, the media would have a field day. Not everyone takes advantage of it. Evgeni didn't, after his gold four years ago - well, Maria would have killed him. Johnny can't even imagine who Evan would pick. Maybe - and then he gets a lightbulb moment, and _that's_ why Tanith brought up tonight. It would be just like Evan (Johnny thinks meanly and not very accurately) to take advantage of the rule to get his hands on his ex. "You think he'll show up here?" he says.

"Well - he might," says Tanith, with a weird tone in her voice. "You might want to go out somewhere tonight, Johnny, if you want to avoid him."

"I'm not going anywhere," says Johnny, insulted that she'd even suggest it. "I won't leave you alone." And _he_ doesn't want to be alone right now either, and he doesn't want to go out.

Tanith coughs into her hand a couple of times, but doesn't argue with him.  
_

The knock on the door comes at midnight. They're both half asleep, but Johnny snaps into wakefulness - he's been waiting for this, and the thought of righteously throwing Lysacek out, maybe spitting some pointed comments while he does it, is very satisfying right now. He stalks to the door and wrenches it open. Tanith, curled up in her bed, looks up and says, "Johnny -?"

"Hello, Evan," says Johnny to the man at the door. "Was there something you wanted?"

Evan is leaning a little on the doorframe, his ridiculous overstretched limbs going _everywhere_ , like he can't keep them under control, and he doesn't even try to look past Johnny into the room, just focuses on Johnny's face and looks - well, the expression is probably meant to convey 'intense' but what Johnny mostly gets is 'confused'. "Weir," he says.

There's some sounds behind Johnny which are Tanith standing up. "Evan, are you really sure this is a good idea," she says, and Evan doesn't even appear to hear her, which just makes Johnny even more irritated. If you're trying to call the gold medal rule on someone you should at least act like they _exist_ -

and that's when Evan grabs Johnny's wrist.

Johnny feels the long fingers curl tightly around his arm, pressing against the pulse point, and he looks up into Evan's confused-or-possibly-intense stare and begins to say, "What the hell are you doing?"

Except it's already a little bit obvious what Evan's doing, and it becomes unavoidable when Evan swallows and says, "Gold medal rule," without ever looking away from Johnny's face.

Johnny jerks his wrist away from Evan's hold and stares at him, and nearly jumps when Tanith puts her hand on his shoulder. "Guys," she says, "I know it's a rule, but _really_ \- Johnny -"

She's trying to tell Johnny that he doesn't have to do this, the same way that Johnny would have insisted _she_ didn't have to do it. And of course Johnny doesn't have to do it. The gold medal rule is a kind of - agreement, and - Johnny gets it suddenly - Evan's trying to make him break it. Of course Evan doesn't actually want him. He's just trying to prove in yet another way that Johnny's not as good as he is, and Johnny has just had e-fucking-nough, and fine, _fine_ , let Evan get what he deserves for once, because Johnny's calling his bluff. "Fine," he says. "Let's go."

Evan's eyes go wide and then dark, but Johnny doesn't see that. He's already walking past him.  
_

Evan's room is boring. Johnny grudgingly gives him credit for being neat, but the place is almost completely bare of personality. Evan follows him in and closes the door. He's walking so closely behind him that Johnny can feel his body heat. If this is Evan's attempt to challenge Johnny to some sort of gay chicken, he is - okay, first, he is doomed, and secondly, Johnny didn't think even _Evan_ was that dumb. He turns around and gets in even closer, cocking his hip, raising his eyebrows. They're practically - well, they would be nose-to-nose if Evan was about a head shorter. "What can I do for you, Mr Lysacek, sir?" says Johnny as snidely as he knows how. "Would you like me naked? On the bed? Against the wall? Or how about -" he puts his hand on the side of Evan's face and stands on tip-toe to whisper coquettishly in his ear, "I get down on my knees and lick your - medal."

Evan jerks violently and stumbles back. The light's dim in here but Johnny thinks maybe he's flushing. "Don't you ever _shut up?"_ he says.

"Not usually, no," says Johnny. "Are we done with this? You still have time to actually get laid tonight, if that's really the best use of that medal you can think of -"

Evan's bigger than Johnny is and he's got the advantage of surprise, so when he moves he manages to slam Johnny back into the wall by the door without much difficulty. All Johnny's breath goes out of him in a rush, and Evan is pressed up against him shoulders to thighs. Johnny automatically tries to push him off and Evan's hands grip his wrists tightly. "Wha - ah!"

Evan's bitten down hard on the side of Johnny's neck, and it hurts. Johnny twists his head away and Evan's mouth follows, not biting now but licking over the sore spot, making it tingle. Johnny is not willing to admit that it feels kind of good. "What are you -"

Evan pulls away a little without releasing Johnny's wrists and Johnny gets a good look at his face in the dim light, the twist of anger at the side of his mouth, the flash in his eyes. " _Gold medal rule_ ," he snaps in a voice an octave lower than usual. Fascinated, Johnny rolls his hips up. Evan's body jerks in response, and yes, he's definitely into this.

Johnny opens his mouth to say something else - he's not even sure what, some smartass comment - but Evan growls and shoves him in the direction of the bed, and Johnny goes along with it for now. He lets himself be tripped up and pushed down on his back on the bed, and Evan settles over him, holding his wrists again. Johnny can feel his hard cock pressed against his hip, and isn't that interesting. "Aren't you at least going to get undressed?" he mocks, and Evan growls and thrusts down against him, gripping his wrists harder. Johnny almost laughs when he realises what the problem is; Evan doesn't dare to let him go long enough to get his own pants off. "You could always tie me down," he suggests helpfully.

"Shut - up!" spits Evan, and one of his hands releases Johnny's left wrist long enough to rest first on his throat and then over his mouth. Johnny twists and bites down at the same time, and Evan's yell of protest is half a groan when the sudden movement gives him more friction against his cock. They struggle for a few moments - Evan might be bigger and stronger, but Johnny's every bit as much of an athlete and doesn't make it easy for him - before Evan springs off the bed and stalks away. Johnny laughs.

He's not laughing for long. Evan's back fast, holding something. "Why do you always have to make everything so hard?" he says. He sounds almost plaintive but his movements are anything but - he lunges on top of Johnny again and doesn't mess around, letting Johnny twist and kick underneath him but doggedly getting hold of Johnny's wrists, pulling them together, wrapping the tie around them and knotting it.

Johnny can't even see the tie but he bets it's a hideous one. Most of Evan's clothes are hideous. Or boring. Or both.

There's a moment's pause once Johnny's hands are tied. Johnny stops kicking while he tries to work out how serious Evan is. Evan lies on top of him, his hands still resting on the knot, his face invisible from Johnny's perspective. After a minute Evan murmurs, "It's a rule." His voice sounds scratchy.

The Olympic gold medallist gets to have whoever he wants, however he wants, for one night only. It's a stupid rule, halfway to a joke, a game, but after all this Johnny has finally realised that Evan isn't kidding.

"Fine," he says.

He's not expecting Evan to bite down on his neck again, and he immediately starts to struggle. The bite isn't as ferocious as before, and Evan switches to lapping at Johnny's throat almost at once. Some of Johnny's struggling might be more like arching his spine, but there's no one to call him on it. Evan finally takes his hands away from Johnny's wrists - Johnny immediately tugs, testing the knot, but it holds - and starts stripping his clothes off and throwing them away, shirt pants boxers. Johnny stares for a second when he realises Evan is still wearing his medal, has been all along, it was tucked under his shirt - and suddenly all his earlier fury at the judges and the Olympics and Evan fucking Lysacek floods back, and he bares his teeth and starts to tug against the knots at his wrists again.

Evan takes the medal off too and sets it reverently on the bedside table - there's a little clink sound that makes Johnny actually see red for a second - and then he's totally naked and staring down at Johnny with an unreadable expression on his face. "Come on, Lysacek," Johnny spits, "this is the only way you could get me so you'd better enjoy it while it lasts -"

"Shut _up_ ," Evan says, and crawls onto Johnny again. This time he presses his mouth against Johnny's lips, and Johnny doesn't kiss back but he feels Evan's breath hot and damp against his face while Evan's hands fumble getting Johnny's pyjama pants shoved down and his shirt pushed up under his arms. Johnny's hard but he barely even pays attention to Evan's hands brushing over his thighs, just avoiding his pubes, because he's too busy thinking: Trust Evan not to think of taking the shirt _off_ before tying Johnny's hands. "Trust you -" Johnny begins against Evan's mouth, and Evan makes a deeply frustrated noise and slaps his hand down across the bottom half of Johnny's face. Their cocks are pressed together - Johnny can feel how hard Evan is, and if he starts struggling now it's going to give both of them more to enjoy. He's tempted, very tempted, but the hand over his mouth is too fucking irritating, and you'd think Evan would learn. He turns his head sharply to the side and bites again, getting a good chunk of the side of Evan's hand between his teeth - that's going to leave marks.

Evan's breath hisses out and he thrusts against Johnny's thigh. "Don't make me gag you," he says.

"What are you even going to gag me with?" Johnny demands, but the end of the question comes out choked as Evan first palms his cock and then wraps his long fingers around it. It feels insanely good, Evan's strong grip and his thumb smearing precome around the head, and then Evan shifts around a bit and moves his hand and now he's got his hand holding both of them at once. He hasn't got much of a grip this way but the two of them thrust against each other, moving in a quick, jerky rhythm, and it's hot, so hot. Johnny suddenly wants to wrap an arm around Evan's broad shoulders and tug him in, to _help_ , but his wrists are still tied and all he can do is move his hips, thrusting over and over again.

Evan comes first - comes what ought to be embarrassingly quickly, actually, but on reflection Johnny is just going to take it as a tribute to how hot he is. He muffles his shout against Johnny's shoulder as his come shoots over Johnny's lower belly and thighs. Johnny's expecting to have to push him into good manners, but the rhythm of Evan's hand only slows for a moment before he's jerking Johnny off properly again, his hand slick now with his own come. Johnny shuts his eyes and lets the feeling take him, barely registering the things Evan's saying. (Later he'll remember _you look so good_ and _come on, come for me_ and be caught between finding the memory hot and despairing. Even Evan's _dirty talk_ is cliched.)

Johnny comes gasping and thrusting fast into Evan's hand, and lies still for a good four or five minutes afterwards. Evan is beside him and a little bit on top of him. The arm Johnny can't see has to be hanging off the edge of the bed. He's still breathing hard.

Johnny is suddenly furious.

"There you go, gold medallist," he says. "Your obligatory Olympic fuck. Now hurry up and untie me."

For the first time since Evan showed up earlier, his tone seems to strike home. Evan is lying close enough that Johnny feels the full-body flinch as well as seeing it. He sits up slowly, and unties Johnny with fumbling fingers. Johnny shakes out his hands and wrists at once, letting the circulation come back. He pulls up his pyjama pants - urgh - and moves his shirt from twisted up around his armpits to something closer to its normal configuration.

"Congratulations," he tells Evan in the spikiest, most offensive tone he can muster. "I'll see you around."

"Johnny," says Evan behind him, but Johnny's already gone.


End file.
